


Taking a Holiday

by Mistress_Mercy_94



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Bigby is shot once again, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, F/M, Fever, Fever Dreams, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Sickfic, Silver Toxicosis, Vomiting, can be interpreted as romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Mercy_94/pseuds/Mistress_Mercy_94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Crime doesn't take a holiday just because the Crooked Man is gone."</p><p>He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Snow at his statement. "You need to take a holiday once in a while, Bigby," she reprimanded. "Preferably one that doesn't involve silver bullets."</p><p>"I had the situation under control."</p><p>"Then I guess suffering from minor toxicosis was on your agenda then?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place months after the events of the video game.

_The harsh scraping of sharp metal against concrete was a haunting sound in the alleyway whose walls were bathed in red light from a nearby sign. He could see the black combat boots walking steadily towards him as his vision swam. The scraping only seemed to grow louder until it suddenly stopped. A slender, feminine face peered down at him, amber eyes bright with murderous intent and a lazy smile sprawled across her face._

_"Biiiiiigby," she crooned, though there was no trace of affection in her tone. Before he could utter a single word he saw the axe with Druid runes etched into its head swinging down, towards his exposed neck..._

Bigby awoke with a jolt to his darkened apartment. He felt his chest heaving with every frantic breath and it took a solid minute for him to realize that he was sitting in his chair, staring at the walls of his apartment. His mind was still foggy with fatigue as he turned his gaze towards the clock on the wall.

 _"Shit...,"_ he groaned softly. The hands on the clock told him it was 2:36 and judging by the darkness it was A.M. The brunette shifted in the chair, but immediately tensed as his movements were rewarded by a crippling pain. "F-Fuck....!" Bigby doubled over and noticed that his torso was bare and wrapped up in clean white bandages.

 _Not an unfamiliar sight..._ the Fable thought to himself.

"Bigby...?"

The brunette's head snapped up at the sound of a tentative voice breaking the silence. Standing in the dim light was the Deputy Mayor, Snow White, holding a steaming plate of... well, he wasn't sure exactly what, in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Her brow was furrowed with worry and concern flashed in her eyes when the man looked up at her.

"Snow?" His voice came out sounding more gravelly than he'd intended and he attempted to clear his throat. "What are you doing here...?"

She let out an almost inaudible sigh before walking over and setting the glass down next to him. "Dr. Swineheart sent me." She dragged a wooden chair over as she continued to explain herself. "He told me you got into a bit of trouble and he had to patch you up again."

Bigby drank greedily from the glass of water as he heard the woman sit down before him. When he spoke again his voice came out sounding a little less rough. "Well... crime doesn't take a holiday just because the Crooked Man is gone."

He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Snow at his statement. "You need to take a holiday once in a while, Bigby," she reprimanded. "Preferably one that doesn't involve silver bullets."

"I had the situation under control."

"Then I guess suffering from minor toxicosis was on your agenda then?"

Bigby's thick brows drew together as he scowled. "Of course not!" Only moments after the words were out of his mouth did he feel a dizzying throbbing in his head and his hand reached up, pressing against his temple as he groaned softly.

"Careful..."

"I have... minor toxicosis...?" he questioned aloud in a strained voice as his vision swam once again.

"Yes," she paused and the brunette could feel her eyes on him as she spoke. "Swineheart informed me of the details. He claimed you were too out of it for him to tell you himself."

"Mm, of course..." As he inhaled he caught the surprising smell of roasted chicken along with some steamed vegetables. His brown optics were now looking down at the plate in Snow's hands. The Fable managed to confirm that what he was smelling was exactly what she had in her hands. He must've been making some sort of face because a soft breath of a laugh escaped from the young woman's lips: a sound he hadn't heard in God knows when from the Deputy Mayor.

"Hungry?" When he looked up again one of Snow's delicate brows was lifted in a quizzical manner.

He nodded and the woman just pushed the plate into his hands and he greedily began digging into the homemade food that Snow had undoubtedly brought over knowing his tendency for ordering take-out.

Halfway through his dinner Snow brought him another fresh glass of water. She was content to watch him eat his fill, not bothering to make something for herself.

"Bigby."

"Hm?"

"You do have a bed, right?"

A part of Bigby wanted to ask why in the world she was asking about a bed, but he decided to suppress that thought and just answer her question. "Of course I do." He paused a moment to look at her once more. "What? You think I always sleep in this shitty old chair?"

Snow didn't answer which confirmed that she'd thought as much up until he confirmed that he did indeed have a bedroom.

"Why the sudden concern, Snow?"

"Just," she sighed softly, "promise me you'll get some proper rest."

"Yeah. I'll get plenty of rest and then come in tomorrow bright and early." Bigby's words, to his confusion, were rewarded with a disapproving frown from Snow. "What?"

"You won't be coming in tomorrow," she stated simply. "Swineheart strongly recommended you take a few days of rest."

It was Bigby's turn to frown. "A few days?"

"He told me to warn you that if the silver bullets don't do you in, exhaustion from overwork will."

"He's not one to sugarcoat things, is he?" Bigby muttered aloud, more to himself than to his company.

"I'm serious, Bigby."

"Alright, alright. If you say so, Boss." He'd meant the last bit as a joke, but he could tell immediately that Snow wasn't the least bit amused by the word. Instead of grilling him about it she just held out a hand for the now empty plate in his lap. Once he handed it over to her she disappeared into the kitchen again.

When the Fable heard the sink begin to run he decided to close his eyes for just a moment. He could still feel a dull ache in his chest and the headache hadn't entirely gone away either. Bigby wasn't sure whether it was the sound of the running water or being contentedly full but his senses drifted and he found himself dozing off faster than he could realize.

His eyes fluttered open once more to a gentle touch. Snow had come back, one of her small hands brushing back Bigby's disheveled hair to rest against his forehead.

"Hm," she hummed to herself quietly. "You feel a little warm."

"Excuse me, Nurse, but I believe werewolves naturally run a higher temp than mundies," he teased lightly, still a tad groggy. He smiled a little when the line coaxed a quiet laugh out of Snow.

"Bigby... even Fables can get sick. Besides you look plenty similar to a mundie at the moment: a reckless one at that."

"Don't forget lucky."

She sighed at that before standing up, concern coloring her features once more. "I have to go. I need to open the office early in the morning. Sure you'll be alright on your own?"

"Snow, I'll be fine." He tried to give her his best reassuring look. "You should go home. Get some shut-eye."

She nodded. "You make sure to get some too."

"Of course."

"And don't strain yourself," she added on as she walked to the front door.

"Night, Snow."

"Take care, Bigby."

"Always."


	2. Chapter 2

Yet another nightmare had the Big Bad Wolf waking up in a cold sweat, but this time around he could see the morning light shining through his window and feel the rough mattress under his body.

He wasn't sure how it was possible but he felt worse than he had before Snow had left. His whole body was drenched in sweat, everything ached eventhough he was sure he'd only been shot in the torso, and his head felt as though someone had taken an axe to it (he couldn't help but be reminded of that faithful night when he'd had to forcibly remove an axe from the Woodsman's head).

Bigby grunted with effort as he sat up, the pounding in his head intensifying. He waited for the sensation to ebb away before daring to get up and out of bed though his stomach was none too happy about his movement. He ran a hand over his face as he stumbled into the main room.

 _This is worse than taking one bullet from Bloody Mary._ He thought to himself as he walked into his broom closet of a bathroom.

Midway into washing his face his stomach warned him that it'd be losng what little content it had in it. The Fable barely had enough time to whirl around and violently vomit into the toilet bowl. He stayed there for a good minute or two, the ordeal leaving him with a still sore stomach and a body wracked with chills.

"Fuck...," he muttered when he'd flushed the toilet and washed out his mouth. "Swineheart wasn't kidding about this toxicosis." He'd never felt this sick before in his life, but then again he'd never eaten as many casings of silver as he had last night.

The vomiting session had left Bigby significantly more fatigued than he'd been when he'd woken up and he found himself lumbering back into the bed. As soon as his body hit the cool mattress he passed out once more, not bothering to rouse himself when he heard the phone in the main room ring...

* * *

 The slamming of a door made Bigby stir once more though he didn't move from his curled up position on the bed. The sticky feeling of sweat was ever-present on his skin and his head felt like it'd been stuffed with cotton.

"Bigby?" a familiar voice called into the dead silence.

 _Snow._ He managed to recognize the woman's voice despite his groggy state.

Before he could answer her call she was there at the doorway. In the next instant she was crouching beside his bed, intense worry reflected in her deep blue eyes.

"Jesus, Bigby...," she murmured, a hand immediately going to his head. "You're burning up."

"Am I?" His voice sounded rough as it came from his throat.

He got no response from Snow and instead the young woman moved with urgency from the room before coming back with a washcloth drenched in cold water. She began wiping the sweat from his brow gently. The coolness felt good against his skin and he closed his eyes at the minimal relief.

He heard a sigh that sounded both concerned and angry at the same time. "Why didn't you call me?" She definitely sounded upset.

"... sorry. Fell asleep...," he responded, not being able to form a complete sentence quite yet. "Wasn't... feeling too great. This morning... vomited..." He was so out of it he wasn't entirely sure that Snow even understood what he was saying.

"Oh, Bigby...," she whispered, voice becoming more sympathetic as she continued to run the cold cloth over his face gently. "You look terrible."

"Thanks..." Sarcasm was definitely a feat for someone who appeared to be getting the worst of silver poisoning at the moment. He opened his eyes slightly to gaze blearily at his coworker and realized once again that she wasn't amused.

"I'm going to call Swineheart. This looks bad..."

"Mm...," he mumbled incoherently.

"Try to stay conscious for me, okay?"

Bigby's throat felt dry so he settled for nodding instead of speaking. Unfortunately the Fable blacked out as soon as Snow left his sight.

* * *

The next time Bigby was conscious he only caught tidbits of a conversation.

_"Body... fighting off... silver... Wait it out."_

_"What can I do?"_

_"Take care... fever... fluids. **Rest**..."_

The word rest was spoken so loudly he had no doubt it was Swineheart that was speaking, still warning him to take it easy eventhough he was only semiconscious.

_"Make... eat... when he can. Won't die yet..."_

He then heard a pair of footsteps promptly leave the room.

"Bigby," Snow's voice was close to his ear, but he was beginning to drift off once more so he just barely caught _"medication"_ and _"be back soon"_ before he was lost to the world once more.

* * *

  _It was sweltering._

His whole body felt as if it were on fire. The sweat that clung to him didn't help matters either nor did the thick comforter that was nestled around him. He was sure his eyes were open but everything looked muddled and hazy.

_He was on fire._

He had to be. The room was bathed in an orange light. _Had his apartment been set ablaze?_  He didn't dwell on the thought for too long as he kicked off the comforter. It was making the heat worse. He turned his body, grasping blindly for the edge of the bed as he sat up. The abruptness of his movements caused a sudden feeling of nausea to settle in the pit of his stomach.

There was no warning whatsoever when he vomited, for the second time today, as he leaned over the side of the bed.

_His throat was burning._

"F-Fuc-" He retched mid-curse, his stomach asking for a third round of vomiting.

_Jesus, it felt like he was dying._

Through the fiery haze a sudden cooling hand rested against the back of his neck and he could hear soothing words gently drifting towards his ears.

"Bigby... Relax. You're alright. Calm down."

He recognized the voice as Snow's.

"... fire...," he croaked. The burning in his throat intensified.

"There's no fire, Bigby. You're alright."

Once again he felt a firm but gentle touch pushing him up into a sitting position against the wall. The Fable's head lolled to the side, his eyes closing once more. For a minute the cool hands left his body and he couldn't feel Snow's presence nearby anymore.

Unconsciousness threatened to snatch him away again before he felt a delicate hand supporting his head while another pressed a small cup to his lips. Naturally the Fable decided to swallow down whatever was in it. The substance tasted horrid and was rather thick in consistency: medicine.

No sooner had he downed the foul liquid did Snow press a glass against his lips that contained the cold water he'd been craving. He swallowed down that water like it was the last glass he'd ever have.

"Good. Take it easy. You're going to choke," Snow warned.

When the glass was mostly empty and the ill Fable was somewhat calm he felt the cold washcloth being used to clean his face. The soothing cold along with the heaviness that had settled upon Bigby was enough to lull him back to sleep.

* * *

Bigby jolted awake to darkness once again. A nightmare that was already fading from his memory was the culprit of his wakefulness. He was wrapped up in the comforter again, his head resting against something equally soft and warm.

The heat wasn't entirely gone but he didn't feel like he was being set on fire. For once he wasn't covered in sweat and his head felt a little more clear than it had the last time he'd been awake.

"You alright there?"

The brunette turned towards the voice and realized immediately that his head was sitting against Snow's lap. The young woman above him had taken her long hair out of its usual pinned up style and wore a white night gown in place of the suit she normally wore. Her long hair framed her face nicely though her expression was one of exhaustion and anxiousness.

"Mm... what happened?"

There was silence for a solid minute before Snow spoke, "Swineheart told me to look after you for the day. I went home to get some things to help with the fever. When I came back this afternoon I found you vomiting over the side of your bed and claiming you were on fire. You might as well have been, your temperature was through the roof. You looked horrible, like you were dying...," she trailed off for a moment before she continued to speak once more, "Scared me half to death."

A tendril of guilt crept into Bigby at that statement. Had he scared her that bad? He could barely recall his waking moments throughout the day, let alone how Snow reacted to his delirious episode. Her voice brought him out of his troubled thoughts.

"As soon as I gave you the medicine you blacked out, but your temperature stabilized. You remained asleep most of the day." She leaned down to look at hs face. "You look a little more alert. How are you feeling?"

"Shitty, but better."

"Think you'll be able to eat something?"

Bigby was silent and Snow decided to take that as a response.

"I guess that's a no."

Silence fell between the two and Snow's gentle fingers began combing through Bigby's messy brown hair. The slow drag of her finger nails against his scalp was rather soothing and they posed a threat of putting him back to sleep again. To distract himself from the encroaching sleepiness he asked a question that was on his mind.

"Have you been here all day? Looking after me?"

"Of course. When you didn't answer my calls I got worried and came over."

"What about the office?"

"I left it in Bluebeard's hands."

A scowl made its way onto Bigby's face before he could stop it and Snow caught it despite the darkness of the bedroom.

"Don't make that face," she scolded. "He's capable of doing some good, Bigby. Besides I couldn't necessarily turn to anyone else for help. You are my backup after all."

That took him by surprise. "I am?"

"Mm-hm," she hummed, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger. "Had you been there I would have left the office in your care. I turst you first and foremost. Because of your judgement and skill we managed to put away one of the most notorious criminals in Fabletown. Not to mention the Fables that reside here trust you as well."

"Doesn't seem like it...," he muttered under his breath.

"They do," she hesitated a moment, "At least, they trust you a little more than Bluebeard."

"I guess a little goes a long way, huh?"

She hummed again before continuing to comb through his hair, her fingers grazing a tender spot on his head that had his whole body relaxing. The ever-vigilant Snow took notice of the action and her hand remained near the spot. "You should get some more rest. You look exhausted."

"I could say the same about you," Bigby quipped. "You ought to go home and sleep too."

"I'm sleeping here tonight," she said matter-of-factly. "Your temperature may have leveled out for the time being, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet."

He only acknowledged her statement with a grunt. "What about tomorrow?"

"That'll depend on you, won't it?" she teased. "I might have to leave you alone tomorrow morning to check on things, but I'll be back here as soon as I can."

"Don't let Bluebeard take all the credit. He might try to hold it over your head."

A quiet laugh slipped past Snow's lips and her fingers ran over the tender spot on Bigby's head once more sending the ill Fable into silence once more. He didn't even notice he was dozing off until he heard the woman above him speak once more, "He won't be holding anything over my head and you need to start resting yours."

"Mmhm...," he muttered agreeably, eyelids already growing heavy with fatigue once more as the steady brush of Snow's fingers began to lull him into yet another deep sleep.

* * *

By the time Bigby awoke the next morning Snow was already gone. This time his head stayed clear and his body still felt a bit sore from healing wounds, but he felt significantly better. He blessed his lineage for giving him the ability to recover so quickly. A mundie would've had a far more difficult time recovering from poisoning than he would. In fact he was very sure he would've been hospitalized had he not been a Fable.

He took great care in getting out of bed and was surprised to discover that he wasn't immediately assaulted by feelings of nausea. He walked out of his bedroom and discovered a little setup on the table in the main room.

There was a plate stacked with a few pieces of dry toast, a glass of water, and a bottle of what Bigby assumed were pain medication. Next to the assortment of items was a note. The brunette picked up the note and a small smile found its way onto his gruff countenance as he read it.

_Morning, Sleepyhead._

_I made you some toast, if you think you can eat something. Take two of the pills with the water they'll help with any pain or fever that might be lingering. Give me a call if you feel up to it. I'll be coming back in the afternoon to check on you. And please, try to rest as much as possible today. You deserve it._

_Snow._

Bigby picked up a piece of toast from the plate before going over to his phone to check in with Snow. Maybe he'd be able to convince the Deputy Mayor to let him come in for work tomorrow...


End file.
